


Top Your Delivery Driver

by MistressSage



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Rimming, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressSage/pseuds/MistressSage
Summary: The delivery wizard from Curry Cauldron is a face Harry hasn't seen in years and can't stop thinking about.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 245





	Top Your Delivery Driver

**Author's Note:**

> So, last year I saw a tweet that said, "not sure who needs to hear this but TOP YOUR DELIVERY DRIVERS." Obviously a typo, but my Drarry mind ran wild. I had almost finished this last summer and then just stopped writing. Hope you enjoy this little one-shot!

Of all the wizarding businesses to open in the post-war boom, Harry was most excited about Curry Cauldron. Perhaps it was the one-quarter of Tamil blood that ran through his veins, but there was just nothing like the combination of spices and layers of flavor that Indian cuisine provided. Not that bland excuse for a chicken tikka masala that Aunt Petunia used to make. But the times the Dursleys ordered out were some of his only happy memories.

When a witch opened up a curry restaurant on Diagon Alley, Harry couldn’t be happier. They were also offering delivery, so after a long day of grueling paperwork as a Junior Auror, he could have a steaming bowl of saag paneer delivered directly to his flat’s door.

On the day of their grand opening, Harry Floo-called in his order. Forty-three minutes later, there was a loud knock on his front door.

He flung the door open. “Hello—MALFOY?”

Standing before him was a tall, blond—and rather fit, he had to admit—man he hadn’t seen in years. Draco Malfoy was wearing acid wash blue jeans and a green t-shirt that read “Curry Cauldron.” A scarlet blush crept up his cheeks.

“Oh, bloody hell. Of course it’s you.” He held out the plastic bag of food. “Here you go. Two Galleons and eighteen knuts.”

“Right.” Still gaping, Harry handed over two Galleons and a sickle. “Keep the change.”

“I don’t need your charity, Potter.”

Harry put his hands up in defense. “It’s not charity! It’s polite! But whatever. Give me my knuts.”

Draco practically threw the eleven bronze coins at Harry before Apparating away on the spot. Harry shook his head and went inside.

Malfoy had all but disappeared after his trial. He got off with time served thanks to Harry’s testimony. One week later, Harry had received a short, handwritten note from Malfoy, thanking him for his appearance in court. Then he had disappeared from public life.

And now he was delivering curry on a Friday night three years later. Harry couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. By the time he went to bed that night, he had nearly convinced himself that he’d imagined the whole thing.

The curry was delicious.

***

The next night, he met up with Hermione and Ron for drinks, as usual. They frequented a small pub in Muggle London to avoid the press. Hermione waved at him from their usual table in the corner. A pint of ale was already waiting for him.

He kissed his friend on the head and took his seat across from Ron. “What’s new?”

“Bill and Fleur had a fight over curtains,” Ron said. “He showed up at half midnight last night.”

Hermione shook her head. “I can’t wait for her to deliver that baby so they can be a happy couple again.”

Fleur’s pregnancy mood swings were legendary. Harry laughed. “He hasn’t learned how to avoid the fights yet? Curtains seem like a stupid reason to get into a brawl.”

“He’s an idiot.” Ron took a sip of his beer. “What’s new with you?”

“I ordered from Curry Cauldron last night.”

“Oh, how was it?” Hermione asked.

“Great. It was delicious.” He was about to tell them all about Malfoy, but he remembered his former nemesis’ embarrassment. “Speedy service, too.”

“Good. We’ll have to try them soon.” Then Hermione rattled on about some case in her department, and the curry was forgotten.

By their third pint, Ron looked at Harry with concern. “You’re quiet tonight, mate.”

“Am I?”

“What’s going on?” Ron’s eyes were red from the ale, and he gave Harry a watery grin. He could never hold his booze, but Hermione could drink them both under the table.

“I was just thinking…about Malfoy. Whatever happened to him?”

Hermione, as sober as if she’d just drank three pints of sparkling water, shrugged. “Every so often, the Prophet runs a theory about him on a slow news week. But no one knows.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Yes. You know, after the trial, they took nearly the entire Malfoy estate. He had a small inheritance fund that wasn’t in Lucius’ name, but rumor has it, he donated half of it to the War Orphan Fund. Then he disappeared.”

“I wonder what happened to him,” Ron slurred.

 _He’s delivering curry to witches and wizards,_ Harry thought. But instead he just shrugged.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Why were you thinking about him?”

“Just…a passing thought.” He stood. “Another round?”

***

By the next Friday, Harry had all but forgotten about his encounter with Malfoy. Pushing papers for ten hours a day at the Ministry had that effect on someone. It was mind-numbing, and there was always more to do. He pulled extra hours every night that week.

“Fuck it.” It was seven o’clock. “I’ll finish the rest Monday morning.”

Dennis Creevey, a recruit fresh from the Academy, banged his head on the desk. “No one told me fighting dark wizards involved mostly paperwork.”

Harry laughed. “I suppose we should be grateful. Go home, Dennis. We’re the last ones here.”

“I’ll leave as soon as I finish filing this. Have a nice weekend, mate.”

“You, too.”

Harry liked Dennis. He was no longer the annoying little boy from school. Dennis had decided to dedicate his life to stopping another wizard like Voldemort from rising to power. It was a nice way to honor Collin’s memory, Harry thought.

Harry’s stomach growled as he reached the Floos. He hadn’t cooked all week, instead subsisting on candy bars and dry sandwiches. He really needed to get some groceries this weekend. He yawned and stepped into the flames before stepping out in his living room.

“I’m so tired,” he said to his empty flat. The sun was setting outside of his large windows, casting a golden glow on the hardwood floors. He loved how light and airy this flat was. Selling Grimmauld Place had been an easy decision. The dismal house was just a much larger version of his cupboard under the stairs.

His stomach growled again. He could eat another sandwich or order in.

If Harry were completely honest with himself, it wasn’t just the quality of the food that made him place an order at Curry Cauldron again. But Harry was never completely honest with himself. After thirty-five minutes, he paced his apartment, eager for his delivery.

Draco Malfoy’s jaw was set when Harry threw open the door.

“Hey, Malfoy. How’s it going?”

The other wizard rolled his eyes. “Here’s your food. Two Galleons and two sickles.”

“Thanks. Say, is the chicken korma any good?”

Malfoy shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out in a moment.”

Harry counted coins from a pouch he kept by the door near his keys. “Right. Well, it’s good to see you again.”

Malfoy held out his hand for the money. “I’m sure.”

“Have a good night!”

Malfoy Disapparated with a resounding crack. Harry stared at the spot where Draco had stood for several long moments. He supposed they were still enemies, even after all this time.

But Harry put it out of his mind, turned on the telly, and ate his chicken korma, which was divine.

***

Harry slept most of the day Saturday before meeting Ron and Hermione for a pint. Neville and Luna joined them. He always enjoyed their company, and he loved seeing them so happily in love.

But if he were honest with himself—which he never was—he often felt like a third wheel with his friends. Or a fifth wheel in this case. Everyone was partnered up. Seamus and Dean had been together since fifth year. Ginny always had a new boyfriend or girlfriend when he saw her. George had started dating Angelina. Even Percy Weasley had a girlfriend!

His thoughts wandered back to Draco. Was Draco seeing anyone? Did he deliver food full time? Where did he live now that he didn’t have the Manor?

“Did you hear what I said, Harry?” Neville tapped him on the shoulder. Hermione gave him a strange look. “Sprout is retiring next year and wants me to take the job.”

“That’s great, Neville! I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, mate. How’s work going?”

Harry gave a generic response, and soon Luna was talking about some new species of Nargle that had been discovered in Thailand.

Hermione cornered him by the loo later that evening. “What’s wrong? That’s two weeks in a row that you’ve been quiet and zoned out.”

“I’m just exhausted, Hermione. I’ve been working late almost every night.”

She studied him. “Okay.”

He knew she didn’t believe him, but he wasn’t sure what was bothering him. Rather than think on it too much, he grabbed another round of drinks for the table.

***

The next day, Harry ventured out into Diagon Alley to do some of his errands. He picked up owl pellets for his African wood-owl, Oscar. He dropped off some robes to Madame Malkin for tailoring. Then he went to the Potioneer’s shop to replenish his stock of potions. Normally, he ordered by mail, but it was a lovely summer day, and he enjoyed being out and about.

A bell above the door tinkled when he entered. He stared at the long aisles of shelves, unsure where to find what he needed. There were thousands of potions here.

He made his way to the back of the store to find help. A blond man in a plaid shirt was behind the counter with his back to Harry. He had strong shoulders and a perfect round arse, and Harry let himself admire the man’s backside for a moment before asking for assistance.

“Excuse me, I’m a bit overwhelmed. Could you help me find the hangover potions and the Sleekeazy?”

The man whirled around, and his stone-grey eyes pierced Harry.

Draco Malfoy scowled. “Are you stalking me?”

“What? No! I didn’t know you worked here.”

Draco eyed him up and down before sighing. “Very well. Follow me.”

He led Harry down an aisle to the nausea potions and gestured at the selection of hangover potions. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Harry grabbed one off the shelf. “Sleekeazy?”

“Yes, this way.”

Harry tried not to admire Draco’s arse even more as they walked, but he couldn’t help it. He’d deal with those conflicting feelings later. Instead, he cleared his throat.

“So, you still work at Curry Cauldron?”

“Yes.”

“Good food.”

“Indeed.” Draco stopped at a shelf full of Sleekeazy products. If only his grandfather hadn’t sold the company, Harry could have an unlimited supply of the stuff. Harry grabbed the purple bottle.

Draco shook his head. “No, not that.”

“What? This is what I always buy?”

“And that’s why your hair can’t be tamed. You need the orange bottle. For extra thick hair.”

“Oh.”

“Honestly, Potter.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Here, get the matching shampoo. It will help with the coarseness.”

“Okay.” Harry grinned. “Thanks a lot.”

Draco started to smile back then shook his head. “I’ll ring you up at the counter.”

“Cool.” He tried to think of something else to say as they walked toward the back. “Uh…so you work here, too?”

“Clearly.”

“Right. Dumb question. Sorry.”

Malfoy sighed and calculated his total. “I only work here on weekend days. Ten Galleons, two sickles, and twenty knuts.”

“Oh. Nice.” He handed over the coins. He noticed Draco’s skin was soft as their hands brushed. “Well, thanks, mate.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “You’re welcome…mate?”

Harry flashed a smile. He whistled all the way home.

***

Harry ordered curry again on Tuesday, but someone else delivered it. He tried to hide his disappointment, but he swore that his lamb vindaloo was bland. Friday was Molly’s birthday, and the disappointment he felt at not ordering in was absurd, even for Harry’s irrational emotions.

It was just for curry, of course. Not for Draco. Although he had taken inventory of his potions cabinet to see if he needed to buy anything else before he shook himself with stupidity.

Ron wasn’t feeling well on Saturday, and they canceled their usual plans. Harry thought about going out to the clubs and trying to pull—it had been six months of only fucking his hand, after all. But he couldn’t be bothered to get dressed up. Instead, he ordered curry and slipped a movie in the VCR.

Draco was back. This time, he greeted Harry with a small smile.

“Honestly, Potter. Do you ever cook?”

Harry laughed. “I do! I’m quite good at it. But after a long week, I just don’t want to.”

“Well, here’s your paneer masala. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Thanks. Do you cook there, too?”

“Oh, Merlin no! I’m a horrible liability in the kitchen.” He grinned. “Two Galleons, a sickle, and thirteen knuts.”

“Will you be offended if I tell you to keep the change? I just hate having a pile of the damn knuts around.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Very well. I shan’t protest.”

***

Over the next three weeks, the highlight of Harry’s week was ordering curry and having it delivered by Draco. He had at least admitted to himself that he had a crush on the other wizard. He was quite enjoying the fantasies of Draco bent over his dining room table, that perfect arse in the air ready for Harry’s cock.

Hermione had finally coaxed it out of him one Saturday night. She pursed her lips, but Ron laughed. “It makes perfect sense, Hermione. Harry’s clearly had the hots for him for years.”

“They hated each other!”

“Think about that obsession, though. Especially in sixth year.”

Hermione thought. “Hm. You’re right. There was some sexual tension.”

“Oi! I’m right here!”

“Sorry, Harry,” Hermione said. “But it does make sense. If you hadn’t quite realized you were gay back then, perhaps that obsession was more about lust than suspicion.”

Harry shrugged. The thought had already occurred to him. “Maybe.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know…Is he even gay?”

It was Hermione’s turn to laugh. “Hello? Don’t you remember when he came out in fourth year? It was the talk of the school for a solid fortnight.”

“Gee, Hermione. How could I have not noticed it? Oh, right. I was attempting to not be killed in the Triwizard Tournament by a madman and his creepy fuck of a minion.”

She smiled. “Right. Sorry. It’s just…you can be a bit oblivious.”

“A bit?” Ron teased. “Oblivious is Harry’s middle name.”

“All right. I’m not buying any more rounds. I only do that for good friends.” He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stay annoyed at them for long.

***

Harry had an assignment outside the office for the first time in a month on Tuesday. There had been curse marks on several buildings in Diagon Alley. He and Dennis were to question the owners of the shops to see if they’d noticed anything suspicious.

It was just after one o’clock in the afternoon when they entered Eeylops Owl Emporium. The owner, Dave, confirmed what the other shop owners had said: a group of edgy teens had been loitering outside every evening for the last week.

“Thanks for your time,” Harry said as the door to the shop opened, setting off a cacophony of screeching owls.

“Sorry I’m late,” a familiar voice said. “You know how Martha gets when she’s on a rant.”

“Not a problem at all, Draco.” Dave took a paper bag labeled _Martha’s Deli_ from Draco.

Harry raised a quizzical eyebrow at Draco, who blushed. “Good to see you, Draco.”

“You, too.”

“These Aurors here are inquiring about those curse marks,” Dave said.

“Probably those hoodlums,” Draco said. “They were out late when I was delivering on Sunday night.”

“I see,” Harry said. “Can we ask you a few questions?”

“All right.”

Harry and Dennis asked the same questions they’d asked everyone else and got the same descriptions of the gang of teens.

“And uh, just for my report, what’s your role here?”

“I keep the books for Mr. Eeylops. I’m here Monday through Thursday.”

“I see.” Harry nodded and smiled. “Thank you for your time.”

The Aurors left, and Dennis looked at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What? Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You got all flustered and red.”

Harry shook his head. “It was just hot in there.”

It wasn’t hot at all, but Dennis dropped it. They went back to the office to write up their report. When Harry went home that night, he had a nice, long wank thinking about Draco. He couldn’t wait for Friday.

***

“I almost didn’t think you were going to order,” Draco said when Harry opened the door at nine forty-five Friday night.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. Was Draco looking forward to these meetings as much as him? “Yeah. I got off work late. I’m famished.”

“I noticed.” He held out the bag. “Chicken saag, lamb biryani, and garlic naan.”

“Well, I doubt I can finish it all.” He had an idea. “Hey, what time do you get off?”

Draco gave him a skeptical look. “You’re my last delivery. Why?”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Do you want to come in? Help me finish all this food?”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Uh. Sure. Just let me pop back and give the money to Devi.”

Harry was certain Draco wouldn’t come back. He chastised his stupidity for the entire three minutes that Draco was gone. But when he heard a knock on the door, his heart leapt.

“Nice flat,” Draco said.

“Thanks. It’s…better than anywhere else I lived. Except Hogwarts.”

“Well, it’s hard to beat a castle.”

They sat at Harry’s kitchen table. Harry summoned plates from the drying rack and dipped out some food for himself and Draco. “Want a beer?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Harry summoned two beers from the refrigerator. There was a long pause.

“So, you have three jobs?”

Draco nodded. “Rent in London is expensive.”

“Yeah.”

Another awkward pause. Harry searched for something to say but came up short. Draco broke the silence.

“Did you catch those teenagers?”

“Yeah.” Harry shrugged. “Well, I didn’t. But the team set up a sting and caught them in the act over by Weasley’s.”

“Good.”

That was how their meal continued. Long pauses between tentative conversation. Harry watched as Draco took the last bite of biryani. He couldn’t take his eyes off Draco’s mouth.

“I’m sorry. I have to ask.” Draco glanced at him then down at his plate. “Is this a date? Or are we just hanging out?”

Harry’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t expected such a blunt question. And he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Um. I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, which had become much easier to tame and style with Draco’s suggestion. “Do you want it to be a date?”

“I—” Draco closed his mouth and thought. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He blushed, and Harry found it endearing. In school, he had never noticed how Draco’s face gave away so much. “I do, too.”

“Then it’s a date.” Harry grinned.

After that, the conversation flowed easier. They talked about Quidditch and a recent law passed by the Wizengamot. Harry asked how Narcissa was faring, and Draco inquired about Ron and Hermione. Draco had become interested in much of Muggle culture, and they shared similar tastes in music and movies.

At nearly one a.m., Draco yawned. “I’ve got to leave. I have to be at the potion shop at eight.”

They stood, and Harry walked him to the door. “Can I take you on a proper date sometime? One where you don’t deliver the food?”

Draco smirked. “And here I thought you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body. Yes, I’d like that.”

“When are you free?”

“Tuesday and Wednesday nights currently.”

Harry ran through his mental calendar. “I’ve got a pickup quidditch game with Ron and Seamus Tuesday. How about Wednesday?”

“Wednesday is perfect.”

They stood by the door, neither making a move to open it. Harry’s eyes trailed down Draco’s face to his lips.

“Can I kiss you, Draco?”

“All right.”

Harry closed the distance between them. He placed one hand on the side of Draco’s face, feeling the coarse stubble against his palm. Draco’s breath hitched. Harry pulled him closer and brushed his lips against Draco’s. They were soft against Harry’s perpetually chapped lips.

Draco opened his mouth, and Harry took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. When Draco’s tongue slipped inside Harry’s mouth, Harry let out a small groan. He felt a warm breath of air against his nose as Draco tried not to chuckle.

When they parted, Harry wanted more. Draco’s lips were pink and wet, and Harry could imagine them around his cock. His erection strained against his zipper.

“I really do have to go.”

“I know.”

“Wednesday? What time?”

“Uh. Six-thirty? Should I pick you up or--?”

Draco shook his head. “I can meet you here.”

“Okay. Good night, Draco.”

“Good night…Harry.”

***

Harry floated on cloud nine for the next several days. He resisted the urge to show up at the Potioneer’s shop over the weekend, thinking that might come on too strong.

Wednesday was a long day at work. He really needed to spend an extra hour or two finishing up a report, but as soon as five-thirty struck, Harry rushed to the Floos. He impatiently tapped his foot as the long queue of Ministry witches and wizards inched forward. He envied all the departments that could leave on time.

It took fifteen minutes before he stepped in the Ministry Floo and out in his living room.

He showered quickly and cast a drying charm on his hair before styling it with the orange bottle of Fleamont’s. Then he stared helplessly at the clothes in his wardrobe. What vibe was he going for? Sexy and down to fuck? Handsome and romantic? Bugger. Clothes had never been difficult for Harry.

A serpent-green Oxford near the back drew his eyes. It matched his eyes perfectly, and it was quite the Slytherin shade. Draco might find it amusing. And hopefully attractive.

Harry had just finished tying the laces on his black Doc Martens when there was a knock on the door. He couldn’t fight the shit-eating grin on his face when he opened it to see Draco looking suave in a sky blue shirt and black trousers.

“Hi,” Draco said quietly.

“Hey. You look great.”

Draco smiled a little. He was nervous. “So do you.”

“Thanks. Uh, there’s this great Italian place a couple blocks away. Muggle. I thought it might be…less distracting than a Wizarding restaurant.”

The lines of tension in Draco’s face eased. “That sounds great.”

They walked in amiable silence for the first block before Harry asked how Draco’s day had been. “At Eeylop’s right?”

“Yeah. It was fine. I’m glad I spend most of the time in the back, but it still smells like owl shite and dead rodents.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “How pleasant.”

“My other jobs smell much better.”

They laughed, and Draco asked how life as an Auror was going. Harry began to lament about the long hours but stopped himself. Draco worked every day to make ends meet.

By the time their food was served, Harry was in shock at how easy being out with Draco was. He wasn’t putting on a flirtatious show as was so common on first dates, and Draco didn’t appear to be either. It was comfortable and familiar, as if they’d been dating forever.

The two walked around the neighborhood for a while after dinner, continuing their easy conversations. At one point, Harry slipped his hand in Draco’s, just to feel him out, and Draco laced his fingers through Harry’s. Heat flushed through Harry’s veins, and his heart pounded in his chest.

Eventually, they found themselves back in front of Harry’s building. For the first time that evening, the two men stood in awkward silence.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to find his Gryffindor spirit he was famous for. “Do..do you want to come up? I mean, no pressure, but…”

Draco nodded. “I’d like that.”

Inside, Harry’s nervous energy manifested in being an overly attentive host. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got wine. Beer. Water. Milk. Tea?”

“Wine is fine.”

“Uh, okay. I’ve only got white wine, and it’s probably not up to your standards. Shit. Where are my wine glasses?”

He threw open the cupboards looking for his stemware, only to find them cloudy with water spots. “Let me just clean these.”

“Harry.” Draco’s voice was heavy and rich like butter. Harry spun around to see Draco smirking at him from the couch. “Come sit down.”

“But the wine…”

Draco shook his head. “Later.”

Harry swallowed and made his way to the couch. “Sorry. I’m acting like a blushing virgin on her wedding night.”

Draco snorted. “I’m nervous, too.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. Wait, are you a virgin?”

“Merlin, no. Not by a longshot.” He gave Draco a quizzical look.

“Well, that makes two of us. I think it’s…well, it’s us.”

“Yeah.”

Draco inched closer to Harry on the sofa and reached for his hand. “I have a theory, though.”

“Oh? What’s that?” He squeezed Draco’s strong hand.

“With our…complicated…history, I suspect that any physical activities will be intense and charged and amazing.” Draco moved his hand to Harry’s thigh and stroked upward toward his groin. Harry gasped as his cock began to respond to Draco’s touch, even through his jeans.

Harry shifted his torso and leaned forward to capture Draco’s mouth in his. Draco moaned into his mouth, and Harry’s cock sprung to full attention. He pulled Draco onto his lap and twirled his fingers in his silky, blond hair. Draco rutted against him, gasping and sighing.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Harry murmured in Draco’s ear. He nibbled the man’s earlobe then yanked his hair to expose his slender neck. Draco let out an animalistic groan as Harry bit his neck.

Draco pulled at Harry’s shirt, and soon, their clothes were discarded. They pulled and stroked each other’s cocks urgently as they kissed on the couch.

“What do you want?” Harry gasped as Draco fondled his balls and nibbled his chest.

“Fuck me.”

That was the only thing Harry needed to hear to spring into action. He pushed Draco off him and flipped him over. The sight of his tight arsehole alone would have been enough to make Harry come, if he hadn’t so desperately wanted to be inside of it. He murmured a wandless cleaning spell over Draco’s entrance. Draco shivered, and Harry swiped his tongue over the hole.

“Oh fuck!” Draco cried out. “Yes!”

Harry swirled his tongue and loosened him until Draco was screaming incoherent strings of words. He wordlessly summoned the lube from his bedroom and slicked up his cock before getting on his knees and lining himself up with Draco’s beautiful arsehole.

He slid in slowly to allow Draco to adjust and himself to calm down so he wouldn’t spill immediately. But as Draco relaxed around him, he began to thrust harder and harder. They both yelled and groaned until Harry wasn’t sure whose voice was whose. He was close.

Harry bent further over Draco’s back to deepen his thrusts. He reached his arms around Draco’s waist and began to furiously stroke Draco’s weeping cock. Draco came with a shout and a whimper. As he tightened around Harry’s cock, Harry threw his head back and roared with his release.

“Your theory was right,” Harry said. They were cuddled together on the sofa. Harry’s arms were tight around Draco.

“You should learn now that I’m always right,” Draco replied.

“So am I.”

“Mm.” Draco leaned his head against Harry’s chest. “I want to do this, Harry, if you do. But there’s so much…what people will say, all the shit between us.”

Harry kissed the side of Draco’s head. “Fuck other people. The rest…we’ll figure it out.”

Draco sighed. “Okay. But you’re not going to just replace me when another devilishly handsome delivery man shows up, right?”

“Of course not.” Harry laughed and squeezed Draco tighter.


End file.
